What the Fran

Thinking about community

Ever since Imperfect wrote Share good communities I've been trying to write something in response. I've tried to write my community thoughts even before that. I want thinking about community to be one of the main things here. But it has been so hard to arrange my thoughts into anything that isn't just totally unhinged.

Imperfect says

I don't feel like I belong to enough good communities. By communities, I mean collectives, clubs, chats, and other such groups. By good communities, I generally mean active, serious ones whose synergistic constituents lift people up instead of tearing them down.

And I agree. I think most people probably do. I have lovely communities I am part of, don't get me wrong. But I definitely want more.

I really wanted to write something about this because it's a big deal for me - how can I contribute to my community? How to find those communities? Who and how am I in those communities? - that I find myself unable to say anything sensible on the topic.

An earlier draft of this post contained a long, anarchic, unhinged ramble about community on my street. You'll be pleased to know it's been deleted because it was of no interest to anyone but my neighbours, who are not reading it, and of limited use to even them, if they were.

Also I prefer to stay positive and it's very easy to descend into pessimism and complaints in this area. I really don't want to do that. Too much.

I thought it might be useful to define what's stopping me:

I could say, in this list, gatekeepers and cliques and the like. Which is definitely a thing. As is being an anxious introvert. But really that's all fear. And I have a lot of other things going for me which I really appreciate. These are not many limitations.

A significant downside of not being on social media is so much group stuff happens on social media and it drives me crazy. Fine, use social media, but not only social media, please, for the love of all that is good.

Generally though, I want more of my communities to be offline. Online has its very important function. But a balance. Knowing people locally helps me feel rooted, gives me a sense of place. I like walking down my road and saying hello to people I know.

Recently I went to an 'event' held by a local university 'celebrating' independent publishing. The inverted commas because it was a moribund affair consisting of a single corridor lined with tables of vendors leading to a lecture theatre where thirty people got told about this city's vibrant writing community. Vibrant? Where precisely is this vibrant writing community? I would love to know.

Even my wife, bored solid, remarked on this alleged vibrancy. Was it gaslighting? Does this actually pass for vibrancy? Was it just said to be polite? Or is there, in fact, a vibrant writing community in this city that we're not allowed to see or know about, a secret society, hidden and gatekept? That's how communities can feel, sometimes. Just getting rumours of such things. Parties I'm not invited to.

In this situation I feel like it ought to be either:

Last week I went to the inaugural event of a new club (not writing-related.) There was the event, then a 'social'. Obviously, I thought, I'm not going to do that. But buoyed by this guy talking about building a community around the thing, I did. I went to the bar after... where it was a bunch of people who came in together having a drink and chatting amongst themselves. So I noped right out of there.

Which is the 'community as a buzzword' angle. Like, it's fine you want to have a club with your friend group! That's lovely! Go do the thing, have a drink and a chat about it after. But don't tell general members of the public to join you to 'build a community' then ignore them. Those are not the same thing.

It should have been easy to meet new people in this context because we all just did the same thing. Instant conversation. How did you find it? Have you done it before? That really helps me in a social situation: a common purpose. And what else is a community?

Ava mentioned this recently: a group of people doing the same thing is not automatically a community. I'm technically part of the outdoor or wild swimming (or whatever you call it) 'community'. But where I go no one makes eye contact, never mind talks to each other. We all look like giant slugs in our wetsuits. Something of a dampener on our sociability.

Probably you're thinking, "What you're describing here, Fran, is friends," and that's true, a body can always do with more friends. It is distinct, though. One could have lots of friends without being in particular communities - this is probably common. There is a lot of overlap though, certainly.

In return for all this, I offer myself and my pitch would be I'm pretty useful in a community. I'm enthusiastic. I'm very biddable and easy to boss around. I'm good at cutting things out - an underrated skill I would say. I'll give anyone a lift anywhere. And I'm very loyal - I'll buy a thing and turn up to a thing every time, no problem.

Please know that despite all this talk of community... I am a cowardly introvert. It would take extraordinary effort. But I am willing to put in that effort because I believe it would be worth it.

Anyhow, I'd be very curious how other people felt about their communities - or lack thereof. I've got a sneaking suspicion we all want more, that everyone is separately secretly wanting the same things and connections don't get made.

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